We have a chalkboard in our kitchen and it’s titled “Chemo Countdown.” There are only two numbers that haven’t been crossed off. May 25 is less than four weeks away.
I wish I could say that four weeks seems like nothing. But it still seems so far away.
For Jonathan, those numbers represent 10+ days of no appetite, five more shots, burning pains in his nose and face, the taste of metal in his mouth, tired eyes and a foggy brain and eyebrows that continue to disappear.
For me, those numbers represent lonely mornings as he sleeps, and bitterness about how the baby or I am always sick on those weekends; and then guilt because I feel bitter.
I am not running right now, which is kind of a big deal considering that even in pregnancy I got my butt out of bed to walk. But, something had to give. I need that precious half hour in bed with my little family, nursing Anna and watching him sleep. These days I need to ease into the day, because the days are so very long. But I miss my runs and the normalcy of it all.
We are doing our best to take care of ourselves emotionally. I think we’re doing an okay job. People like to tell us that he looks good, and that I seem to be managing so well. I suppose, in many ways, we are. But in some ways we are just as you’d expect us to be: tired. worried. beat down. over it.
He is trying to take care of himself by doing the following:
Sleeping a lot.
I am taking care of myself by doing the following:
Planning a remission party/fundraiser in June.
Dreaming about our weekend away in Monterey, also in June.
Online shopping. Kidding. Kinda.
Talking to girlfriends, writing, occasionally stomping my feet and making exasperated sighing noises (no really, I do this.)
You are taking care of us by:
Continuing to show up.
Asking questions–oh–how good questions are exactly what we need.